


The Lament of the Alter Ego

by SensationalSunburst



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: AUs Meeting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23189917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SensationalSunburst/pseuds/SensationalSunburst
Summary: "Jaskier?" Geralt said."I'm Dandelion," the double choked, hand shaking as he pressed it to his chest in a bow, "Jaskier was my second choice of stage name."ORYennefer, Geralt and Jaskier meet a Jaskier from a universe in which Yennefer and Geralt never returned after the pogrom in Rivia.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 24
Kudos: 133





	The Lament of the Alter Ego

“Yen, wait.” 

Yennefer neatly dodged the witcher’s grasping hand without looking, approaching the swirling portal with the kind of careless bravery that made him both love and loath her. 

The entire outing was her idea; she needed the charred remains of grass that remained after one of these natural portals opened for some potion or another and had demanded that Geralt and Jaskier accompany her. Which is why they were gathered near an abandoned mill in a remote region of southern Toussaint on a frigid, foggy morning standing before a portal the likes of which they had never seen.

(“They open once every few centuries,” Yennefer explained, “They can’t be passed through; they’re just remnants of the Conjunction.”) 

Unlike the portals found in elven ruins or conjured by mages, which seemed to have boarders of colored flames being dragged inwards, this portal’s edges were jagged and sharp, resembling broken shards of glass. The space and light around the edges, which didn’t so much glow as shine, was warped as if looking underwater. The overall effect was subtle, but more, completely silent. Yennefer’s portals demanded attention but this one was designed, it seemed, to be overlooked. 

Yennefer ignored Geralt’s growl and stepped closer but as she bent to gather the ashen foliage surrounding the swirling circle of energy, she heard a ragged, wet gasp above her. Yennefer startled backwards in a way that Jaskier would have described as ‘scuttling’ and would have fallen if not for Geralt darting to catch her. 

There was a man on the other side of the portal. 

His blonde hair perfectly complemented his entirely emerald ensemble and in shaking hands he was holding a well loved lute, cornflower blue eyes swimming with tears. He was, quite clearly, inside the Rosemary & Thyme past close, judging by the scarce lighting. And perhaps it was that small detail that triggered the recognition in Geralt as while he was clearly different, the man trembling on the other side of the portal was unmistakably Jaskier. 

"Jaskier?" Geralt said. 

"I'm Dandelion," the double choked, hand shaking as he pressed it to his chest in a bow, "Jaskier was my second choice of stage name." 

"Yennefer?" Jaskier hissed, “What the fuck?” He slotted himself between the two, snagging Yennefer’s sleeve. Geralt blindly reached down and snagged his hand, pulling both him and Yennefer back a step so he was positioned just in front of them.

"It's another world." She said, "Perhaps mirror of our own?" 

"Resplendent and as wise as always, good Yennefer." Dandelion said. He drew a breath that caught and dragged in his throat and abruptly began to cry, "Smarter than us all." 

Jaskier's knuckles went white, and he used his grip on Geralt's hand and Yennefer's sleeve to pull them closer to himself until they were pressed against his sides. Geralt didn't think he even knew he'd done it. "They're… on your side... they're…" 

"Gone." Dandelion said.

"Gone?" Geralt echoed.

"There was a pogrom in Rivia." Dandelion said. Yennefer inhaled sharply and Dandelion let out a wet, sad laugh, "Here too, I see. But my… they did not survive."

"Gods," Jaskier breathed, he stepped forward as if to comfort his double, but Yennefer and Geralt held fast, arresting his steps. "Don't get close, we don't know what will happen." 

"The window should only open for a few minutes." Dandelion said, "That's what Triss said, at least. She didn’t say it would be in my cabernet but...I... if I could, I'd like to play you all a ballad. In memory of _my_ witch and Witcher." 

"Of course," Jaskier blurted immediately, "Please." 

Dandelion pulled a stool out from the empty bar behind him and sat, tugging at the lute strings for a moment before, looking back up at the trio. His eyes lingered on Geralt and Yennefer and a fresh wave of tears flowed down his cheeks as he settled in. 

_“These scars long have yearned for your tender caress,_

_To bind our fortunes, damn what the stars own,_

_Rend my heart open, then your love profess,_

_A winding, weaving fate to which we all atone.”_

The tune was different from any of the ballads Geralt had ever heard from Jaskier; the melody was slow, weighed down by a sorrow that seemed to fill the entire meadow, and devastatingly beautiful. When Dandelion bent over his lute, Geralt spotted the shine of a familiar medallion around his neck. 

_"You flee my dream come the morning,_

_Your scent, berries tart, lilac sweet,_

_To dream, of ivory locks, entwisted, stormy,_

_Of violet eyes, glistening while you weep."_

With a tug, Jaskier guided them all down to sit in the wet grass. It was eerie in a way that had him trembling to hear a song so close and yet so different than what he'd written from a voice that was so close and yet so different from his own. Eerie and _heartbreaking_ to hear his double's shattered heart in every note. 

_"The wolf I'd have followed into the storm,_

_To find your heart, its passion displaced,_

_By ire ever growing, hardening into stone,_

_Amidst the cold to hold you in a heated embrace,"_

Yennefer twisted her sleeve free from Jaskier's clawed grip to entwine their fingers, aware that her own hands were just as unsteady as her bard's. She still remembered the awful sound Geralt had made when the pitchfork pierced his heart, the feeling of rapidly cooling blood pooling under her knees, the dread of knowing it was already too late. In those moment-long lifetimes Jaskier had been but a distant thought as she knew he was safe; the realization of what the news of their death had done to him was something she hadn’t considered before. And when Dandelion’s fingers fluttered across the strings, she saw her necklace wrapped around his wrist.

_"I knew that fate would not have us live as one,_

_Yet by love's blind chance we were bound,_

_The wish you whispered, when it all began,_

_Did it forge a love we might never have found?"_

The song trailed off into silence, as final and sad as a funeral hymn. The portal's edges suddenly shuddered and shrank, the connection growing unstable. Dandelion let his lute dangle from his fingers and pulled out a faded kerchief to dab at his eyes. 

“Jas… Julian.” Geralt said, scrambling to his feet. Dandelion and Jaskier both snapped their eyes to Geralt, identical sets swimming with tears, “Julian, you have to know. You must know… that in whatever world, whatever reality, I love you.” 

Dandelion edged forward, free hand outstretched as if to touch the window, falling short before the swirling portal of energy. He inhaled roughly, smiling in a way that was closer to a grimace. 

“Love crosses time.” Yennefer declared, standing to lace her fingers through Geralt’s, “Crosses space. It’s the strongest of magics, Dandelion. Close your eyes on quiet nights and think of us. You’ll feel our love for death itself cannot make it fade.” 

Dandelion’s eyes fluttered closed, “Cherish each other.” 

“Always.” Jaskier breathed, “I swear it.” 

“At the very least,” Dandelion said, slumping, “Eventually I’ll die and then I shall see them again.”

“A bit morbid, that.” Jaskier said. 

“Yet true.” 

The razor edges of the portal flared, causing them all to flinch back. Dandelion stood from his stool so fast that it crashed to the ground behind him. 

“I love you!” He cried, “I love you! Until my bones are dust, I love you!” 

“Farewell, Dandelion.” Geralt said. 

“Farewell,” Yennefer echoed, and before Jaskier could open his mouth, the portal blinked out of existence, the jagged scar of scorched grass and dandelions the only evidence that it had ever really been there at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics adapted from Wolven Song, from the Witcher 3.


End file.
